Sunday, November 30, 2014

Sometimes "liberation" isn't "freedom"...

I like to say I was liberated
long before the Women’s Lib Movement ever gathered steam, but many people
question that statement. I considered myself liberated because I made the choices which best suited what I
wanted from life. Those included being a traditional cookie-baking,
bread-making, floor-scrubbing wife, and a stay-at-home mother (until early
widowhood sent me back into the working world).

I felt no need to carry a protest
sign or lie down in front of a car when more prudent actions provided more benefit
to everyone concerned. Burning my bra wasn’t an option—frankly, it did more for
me than its ashes would have done in the public forum. Screaming for
retribution for every real or imagined slight only lowers credibility, and I
respected my own.

In short—I knew who I was and
what I was (gender: female and proud of it) and did not choose to align myself
with those who wanted the protection
that goes with being the “fairer sex” but sent the opposite signals.

Now before anyone gets fired up,
may I just say I believe women are entitled to equal rights in all things based
on our common humanity. But there is a right way to remedy inequalities and a
wrong way. Just recently I was treated with discourtesy and disrespect by the
representative of a company with which I’d done business. It was a case of “Me
big smart man, you dumb old lady”.I
simply didn’t do any more business with them, nor have I recommended them as I
often do when I have a good experience. It was totally unnecessary—and beneath
my dignity—to make a “federal” case over someone’s bad manners.

I write characters who are
“liberated women” because they think for themselves and give themselves permission to
make individual choices—not join a herd of sheep. They’re not
perfect—far from it!—but they soldier on and hope for the best in all things.